


fall (in my mind, it's you)

by waitshoot



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, a bit heavy i think, it's heechuu surprise, vague backstory but you might figure it out if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27403927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitshoot/pseuds/waitshoot
Summary: "are you sure?"(—but with jiwoo, she doesn't have doubts at all.)"yeah," she says. "let me stay. please."or, heejin wakes up to what she's lost.
Relationships: Jeon Heejin/Kim Jiwoo | Chuu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	fall (in my mind, it's you)

jiwoo liked watching the sunrise.

heejin has to admit that she never quite understood the meaning behind it— the wide grin jiwoo would have on her face right after waking up, still in her pajamas. 

she would pull apart the curtains just to see the first light of the morning sun. heejin remembers the way jiwoo would take a sharp breath, eyes dazed like it's the first time she's seeing and falling in love with it—and remembers the way she would look at jiwoo and marvel on her sheer admiration for all the simple things. 

(and then she falls.)

jiwoo always said it was because the sky looked the nicest at dawn. heejin doesn't think the same, but she agrees anyway. because jiwoo rarely ever says she likes something and actually means it.

jiwoo rarely ever feels enough to lay a part of herself bare for heejin to see.

always smiling, even when she'd accidentally cut herself while slicing onions, or when she'd lost the journal she'd had for years. 

jiwoo's smile is something that heejin both loved and despised, but she returned it with one of her own every time anyway. sometimes, heejin wonders if jiwoo actually found it unsightly, because there'd always be that flicker in her eyes whenever heejin forces a grin, surfacing one second and fading the next, melting into warm pools of chocolate brown like it's what it's always been. 

heejin's known jiwoo for about four years now. 

four years and she's still not sure who kim jiwoo really was. 

one thing heejin's sure of, is that jiwoo cared about her, just as much as she cared about jiwoo—maybe even more. the warmth in jiwoo's eyes whenever she'd wake up in the morning and see heejin staring at her, trying to commit her features to her memory, or the tension in her shoulders whenever heejin ends an argument on the phone. 

heejin may not be the most accurate when it comes to feeling things, but with jiwoo, she doesn't have doubts at all. 

with jiwoo, everything's just right. 

and maybe, without jiwoo, it was only normal for everything to come spiraling down. 

—

"i heard jinsol's planning to get a masters degree overseas."

ice clinks against glass. 

heejin hums as she watches the liquor swish around, her reflection distorted on the shot glass. 

"what if—" 

sooyoung's voice cracks a little. 

"what if she doesn't come back?" 

heejin pauses. 

the vibration from the booming speakers seem to shake heejin on her feet. her mind feels warped, her thoughts barely coherent, lingering on the last drop of consciousness. 

the weight on her chest feels heavier. somewhat. 

"heejin," 

the soundless laugh that slips tremors through sooyoung's fingertips almost seems like it's calling out for help.

"what if she doesn't come back?" 

the vodka—it's bitter. 

heejin takes another sip anyway. 

"then you wait."

and another. 

"like you did?" 

and another, until it burns and burns and it's hard to breathe through her nose, but her throat burns all the same. 

heejin doesn't answer for a while. 

then she downs the glass and sears her own silence. 

"yeah."

—

heejin doesn't remember a lot of things.

routines never work for her because she keeps forgetting which is which, and she tries her best to remember but the information simply douses her mind for a period of time and flows to somewhere heejin doesn't even know herself.

that's how she's always been.

and that's how jiwoo knew her.

but jiwoo hasn't known heejin for a while now, and it shows in the way jiwoo prepares cereal for heejin when she wakes up, topped with slices of fruit and chia seeds. there's also a plate of scrambled egg just beside the bowl, which heejin didn't always eat in the morning, but jiwoo always prepares anyway for good measure.

this morning, heejin wakes up to breakfast just beside her bed, and a bright smile that shakes her awake just as easily as cold water rinses her of sleep.

and yet, heejin finds herself wondering if she's really awake.

"good morning," jiwoo says, softly. "breakfast? i prepared the usual."

heejin locks eyes with her for a second, and looks at the dishes on her table.

they look just as good as everything jiwoo's ever made for her.

something wells up in her chest, but heejin pushes it down easily.

she looks up, flashes her own smile at jiwoo.

this time, jiwoo's eyes don't waver. they're radiant, sincere, and every bit as happy as she's always wished them to be.

(and she falls apart.) 

—

maybe it's the way jiwoo smiles this time.

the way it's not quite perfectly happy, but it's entirely her— just so her that heejin finds it hard to look away whenever she allows herself to indulge in the comfort of jiwoo's presence. 

jiwoo catches her looking and grins. 

"got something in mind?"

the faintest spark in jiwoo's eyes holds heejin captive.

she shifts in place, twisting around so she could meet jiwoo's attention halfway. hesitation crawls up her nerves the moment she parts her lips, the question melting at the tip of her tongue. 

jiwoo's smile softens. 

heejin finds the words.

"what date is it today?"

surprise twists jiwoo's lips, but she answers.

"october 12."

heejin smiles.

"what date was it yesterday?"

jiwoo's silent for a while. 

"i don't know." 

heejin sighs. the smile on her lips stays. 

"it's okay, it's not a big deal."

jiwoo only nods and looks back at her phone, shifting her position and resting her feet on heejin's lap, just like she always has, and it feels so much like home that heejin almost forgets, almost takes a breath and revels in it. 

it's the way jiwoo's there like she always has been that makes heejin wish she never came back in the first place. 

but maybe jiwoo's always been there. keeping watch, taking care of heejin because she never was the type to take care of herself.

jiwoo's a lot of things. heejin is, too. 

but jiwoo's never been good at staying. 

"jiwoo?" 

"hm?" 

jiwoo's always been good at seeming like she does, though. 

"i've been having just coffee for breakfast for two years now," heejin says, hand touching the fabric of jiwoo's jeans. "don't you feel bad for me?" 

heejin pretends she doesn't feel her lips quiver. jiwoo's stay the same. calm, with an ever-present close-mouthed smile that looks almost like it's meant to be there forever. heejin recalls a time when she pointed out that it was somewhat creepy. jiwoo only laughed then, rolled her eyes and nudged heejin's shoulder. 

maybe she hadn't taken offense to that because she knew she'd be showing heejin enough for her to wish she'd paid more attention. 

heejin hears her heartbeat in her ears and it rings, just a tad too much. 

"i love you."

jiwoo looks up at her, the corners of her mouth tweaking upward. "i know."

heejin waits for more. 

"i love you, too." 

jiwoo never was one to fall in love. 

—

it's her apartment. 

her home. her safest place. but right now, heejin can't recognize it. not anymore. not as well as she used to. 

jiwoo seems to have no problem navigating the place, though.

heejin stands by the door, watching jiwoo peel potatoes, and thinking. think, think, think—that's all she's been doing recently—all she's been able to do recently. she's been just thinking for years, about her life with jiwoo, her life without jiwoo. 

everything about jiwoo.

it's stuck in her head, and sometimes heejin wishes the echoes would stop tormenting her for once and leave her alone. but that meant fending for herself, and heejin finds that to be just as hard as pretending she's not thinking of things she shouldn't be thinking about anymore. 

jiwoo notices heejin's presence a bit late. she turns on her heels, a slow smile spreading on her lips as she opens her mouth to call out heejin's name. 

heejin's eyes are drawn to the plate near jiwoo's arm, watches her elbow push it to the edge, her ears barely hearing the sound that escapes jiwoo's lips as she watches the plate fall to the ground. 

and heejin thinks, surrenders herself to doubts she never would've entertained, never should've entertained anyway—or maybe she should have—she thinks and thinks and drowns in everything. 

the plate crashes but heejin's ears ring over the sound of it breaking.

silence lies in waiting. 

(heejin thinks it's deafening.)

jiwoo moves first, slipping past heejin, mumbling something about a broom and an apology that reminds heejin of the way jiwoo used to press on the piano keys whenever she'd mustered enough courage to touch it—hesitant and withdrawn.

mostly, there's regret.

but it doesn't feel as real as it used to. 

(what did jiwoo regret, anyway?) 

there's something about the silence that drives heejin to look at her hands. 

when she finds blood, she pretends she doesn't. 

jiwoo comes back and starts sweeping the floor. 

if she sees the blood on heejin's hands, she doesn't say anything. heejin thinks she knows anyway. 

jiwoo's always liked keeping things to herself, hasn't she? 

an ice-cold feeling wraps around her hands, weaving between her fingers, settles at the base of her wrist, embracing the searing pain that throbs just beneath her skin. 

it burns even more. 

(how long has heejin been falling apart now?) 

—

heejin waits for calls that don't come. 

if she's being quite honest, she doesn't really have a knack for making friends. it's always been jinsol who would tear her away from her laptop to bring her out for "some fun". heejin would refuse, but there's something very threatening in the way jinsol sends a smile her way and tells her to take care of herself. 

some years back, that had been jiwoo's role. 

recently, nothing in heejin's life has been about jiwoo. but everything about jiwoo has grown to be a part of her. and so heejin carries memories in the corner of her eyes, the piercings in her ears, the stains on her favorite shirt. 

sometimes, jiwoo's name would slip from her lips at work while she's in her break and in desperate need of coffee. chaewon, her co-worker, would look at her like she said something she couldn't understand. heejin couldn't blame her. 

sometimes, jiwoo's name would slip whenever heejin's hanging out with hyunjin at the arcade and she hears high-pitched laughter. hyunjin looks at her like she's barely keeping it together.

most of the time, it's when she's alone and her muscles are hurting from working out too much, or when she wants eggs with tomatoes, or when she leaves or sleeps or wakes up in the morning and the sheets are warm but no one's there—it's when heejin's alone that jiwoo's name rests on her lips as easily as she blinks.

heejin wonders if it's because jiwoo's been a part of her life for too long.

or maybe it's because heejin's unknowingly given jiwoo enough for her to feel like she'd lost a part of herself when jiwoo had to go. 

heejin has to admit that she never even thought about that. 

she wonders if jiwoo had.

maybe she did. 

jiwoo's always been a bit of a realist. 

(a part of heejin has always chalked it down to jiwoo's fear of happiness.)

"jiwoo," slips from heejin's lips easily. it takes her off guard a little.

jiwoo places a hand on heejin's temples, kneading lightly. "yeah?"

heejin closes her eyes.

"can i stay here?" 

the pressure lightens. heejin breathes. 

(jiwoo's warmth feels like it's going to slip away any time now.) 

"why are you asking me that?" 

"because i want to," heejin mumbles, burying her face in the comfort of jiwoo's knitted sweater. a slight laugh bubbles in jiwoo's chest, and it almost feels like jiwoo's really within reach. 

if heejin holds on, will jiwoo let her? 

would jiwoo have let her? 

"stay here," jiwoo repeats. "do you want to?" 

"mhm." 

"but you're not supposed to be here, heejin."

her hands clutch at jiwoo's clothes so tightly she still feels her fingernails sink in her own flesh. 

"it's alright."

"are you sure?" 

(—but with jiwoo, she doesn't have doubts at all.) 

"yeah," she says. "let me stay. please."

sometimes, jiwoo tells heejin about her thoughts. of possibilities, of what's happened before, of regrets she could never take back, of decisions she could never change, and of fears that fill her lungs to the brim. 

in heejin's reality, jiwoo drowns alone. 

in purgatory, jiwoo lets heejin drown with her. 

**Author's Note:**

> hello aha


End file.
